The Letter He'll Never Send
by festus48
Summary: It was a letter confessing his love. But instead of giving it to her, he gave it to the Internet.  Through a letter she was never supposed to read and secrets neither of them wanted to share, could they find love? A/H
1. The Letter

**Hope.**

_August 15  
><em>

I can't contain it any more. I watch you.

I get captivated by you.

I watched as day by day the light in your eyes burned out, when before just thinking of him would ignite a spark. I watched how the happiness and joy you spoke with when talking about him was slowly replaced with sadness and indifference. How if I brought him up you would look away and change the subject instead of telling me how the 'funniest thing happened last night' with him. I watched as you rejected his call at lunch that one time, you thought I hadn't noticed. I did.

It gave me hope.

I know it shouldn't have, that I'm a terrible friend - a terrible best friend - because of it, but I can't deny it. Watching as your relationship with him has slowly dwindled into nothing has been the best thing that's ever happened to me.

And then, when you told me you'd ended things with him...I felt euphoric. You asked me if I was all right, telling me that I wasn't breathing. Breathing didn't matter when I was so happy. But I didn't tell you that. Instead I made up an excuse; I said I was amazed that you had broken up; that you gave no indication that things weren't working. I knew it was a lie, I think you did too.

You told me that it just didn't feel right any more, that there was no spark or fireworks or whatever. We joked about how cheesy it all sounded. Inside I knew what you meant. I know what you meant because that's how I feel when I'm around you. All we have to do is touch and there's a fizzle, an electrical current. You can't tell me you don't feel it too.

Then you came up to my house one afternoon, tears cascading your face. For once it wasn't raining, you moaned that the one time you needed it to rain, to have your emotions reflected through the weather, to mix the tears with the rain, it didn't. I was too worried to laugh.

Impulsively I hugged you, to comfort you. You didn't think anything of it; we've hugged plenty of times before, though the hugs mean so much more to me than they do to you.

I pulled you indoors and through sobs that made a piece of my heart crumble, you told me. You said how you had gone to his house, to give him a few things of his you found in your room. But when you walked in after no-one greeted you at the door, even though you had knocked long and loud enough, you said, you heard noises. Moans and groans. Being the innocent and kind hearted person that you are, you assumed someone must've been hurt.

A loud and agonising sob wracked through you, nearly breaking my heart in two, as you prepared yourself to continue. Through a whisper you told me you caught him shagging some girl. You said that you shouldn't have cared, that you and him were other with. But it was only two days after you ended it. Two days you cried. He obviously felt nothing for you, you said. If he didn't like you that way anymore why didn't he just end it, instead of waiting for you to, why didn't he spare you all this pain, you asked me. I just sat there, too shocked to even produce an unintelligent grunt.

I knew he was an idiot but I didn't know he was brain dead.

How could he freely let a goddess like you slip through his fingers so easily, and then go onto another girl within a matter of days without a second thought? As though he wasn't gifted to just know you, let alone be the one to call his girlfriend, to tell everyone that the mesmerising girl beside him was his.

I watched as you broke down. As you crawled onto my lap, wrapped your arms around me and squeezed me to you. All the while tears were falling freely down your still beautiful face with no signs of stopping. I stroked you hair and muttered to you that it was going to be all right, that he was a twat for letting you go and doing that to you. I cradled you to my chest and rested my head on top of yours as, after endless hours, the tears had finally ceased and you had fallen asleep, exhausted.

I can't deny that I loved having you so close to me, to be able to smell the wonderful fragrance of your hair, to feel your chest so close to mine. I can't deny that I watched you sleep either.

I went through that phase with you, the one where you ate copious amounts of ice-cream and re-runs of Scrubs over and over. I didn't understand why you were so upset; you were finally free of that moron. But I was with you throughout it nonetheless.

It was hard though. How I longed to have you in my arms, kiss your hair, your forehead - your lips. To be as close to you as I was that evening.

Another piece of my heart withers away when I think that the only time you allowed me to embrace you, to be so close to you for such a long period of time, was when you were so vulnerable; when you were an emotional wreck.

I remember when we first met, last year, you had moved from Phoenix to the desolate and rainy town of here. I knew that before I even knew you; news travels fast in small towns. What I didn't know is why you did it. That intrigued me. What possible reason could anyone have for leaving such a beautiful, bright and seldom rainy place for this crappy, old dump?

You told me your parents were divorced and after living so long with your mother you thought it was about time to grow close to your father, feeling guilty that you only saw him for two weeks a year. I was astounded. How could anyone be selfless? To leave their life, just to make some else's happier? You were a mystery to me.

You still are. What a wonderful mystery to solve.

I was lucky enough to have you sit next to me in Biology. I think it was God's gift to me, to say sorry for all the crap he's made me go through.

If so, then I forgive him.

We hit it off straight away, after you noticed the sheets under my books and how they had E.A Cullen scripted at the top, a few pieces from the book Alice filled with personalised music sheets she had gotten me for Christmas one year. You joked that it reminded you of E.A Games and told me to 'challenge everything'. It wasn't long before we became best friends.

It didn't take long for me to start falling in love with you either.

You've even dealt with my insomnia for Christ sake. You've brushed off my countless apologies for being such a bitch to you when I went through some of the more horrible nights. You even call me at five A.M because you know I'll be awake, annoyed and bored. You sacrifice your sleep just so you can comfort me.

I guess the reason I'm writing all this is to tell you that I have hope again, like I did before you started dating that jerk. You only went out with him because you knew it would make your dad happy. You're too selfless for your own good.

Again I can watch the Goosebumps on your arms form as I whisper in your ear in class, once more hoping it's because I have that affect on you, not because you're cold. I can gaze as you blush after I've complimented you on how gorgeous you look - which you do, always - hoping it's because you like the idea of me finding you attractive, not because you're not use to the attention. I watch as you give me that smile. The one that seems to be reserved just for me, I hope that I'm right, that I'm not just becoming a crazed psychopath. I hope that you hug me goodbye longer than you do anyone else because you revel in how perfect we fit together.

The one thing that hasn't change though is my constant urge to tell you how I feel. It's always been on the tip of my tongue, waiting to tumble out every time I open my mouth. I have to grind my jaw together sometimes otherwise the words would fall so freely, so easily.

You could be doing the simplest of things, like pushing your beautiful brown locks behind your shoulder and the words would be waiting to parachute out, confessing the desire I feel for you.

I wish they could bungee jump out, so then they could fall as they so desire but then they could come back in again, as though they'd never been said. But that can't happen. I have no doubt that you would hear me, no chance of convincing you, you had misheard me. I'm sure that if I were to tell you, I would scream it at the top of my lungs, letting everyone that resides in this town, and the neighbouring ones, confess my love to you.

I hope that one day I'll grow a pair, muster up enough courage, challenge everything and tell you how I feel.

I hope you'll have me,

Your E.A Games.


	2. Chapter 1

**I'm overly nervous about this, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

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><p>I re-read the words over and over. Changing, improving and deleting time and time again. Though she would never see it, I wanted it to be perfect. <em>She<em> is perfect and so writing about her should be too.

She flooded my head, I pictured her heart shaped face and cute button nose. I imagined her large brown orbs boring into my soul as she looked at me from under long eyelashes, her full, plump lips forming into a devious smirk. I envisioned her small form controlling me without knowing it, I comply with her every command as she stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, her foot lightly tapping in expectance.

She could not have been given a more appropriate name, Bella. _My _Bella. How right it felt on my lips as I whispered it to the air. It came so effortlessly I was sure she supposed to be mine. If only she'd realise that.

With a sigh I rubbed my hands across my face. Nothing could compare to her. Not the most beautiful words, captivating and consuming you. Not the most mesmerising and dulcet piece of music, lulling you and reaching into your soul. Nor the most magnificent work of art, each swirl and stroke of the brush more phenomenal than the last, capturing your astounded eyes. Nothing.

Once more I read the words, still not happy with them but, with an exaggerated breath, clicked submit.

I shut the laptop down, grabbed my glass of water and trudged upstairs to my bedroom. I turned the light on, the blackout blinds guarding the room from any source of light from outside that might try to invade. I did the mundane and pointless things I had to do every time before I tried to sleep, and then stripped to my boxers. I crawled to the centre of the bed and slowly closed my eyes, praying for sleep to come.

For once my wish was granted; it took a mere fifteen minutes before sleep consumed me. I woke up and groggily moved my hand to my side table and retrieved my phone and turned it on. I glanced at the time and a smile broke out on my face as the screen shone eight o'clock at me. Although it was only five hours of sleep, it was three more than yesterday.

My phone beeped at me, alerting me to a new message. The grin slipped from my face as I read it, it told me Bella will be out of town for the day. It didn't say anything else, except for a kiss at the end – which always made my stomach feel weird, as though I'm about to be sick or something.

When she went shopping in Port Angeles with Alice and Angela and her other friends, she would tell me that - though she rarely goes with them, hating shopping almost as much as me - so the lack of information told me she was doing it again. Every month she'd go somewhere, outside of Forks, and no-one knew where she went except for her Father, who accompanied her. I found it a little disheartening that she didn't trust me enough to tell me where she went. Every time I read those texts my chest felt weighed down, a small pain coming from my heart.

After a shower I padded downstairs to find Alice and Esme at the breakfast island, in an animated discussion about which is better: twisting, licking and dunking an Oreo, or dunking, twisting and then licking.

"I have to agree with Mom on this one, definitely twist, lick, and dunk. The way you do it makes it all soggy and crumbles to pieces before you've even enjoyed any of it" I told Alice with a serious expression across my face, before breaking out into a grin. I decided to ignore the sadness Bella's text provided, instead choosing to laugh at the absurdity of my family's heated debate.

"Oh hush young one, you're just agreeing with her because you want something" my sister grumbled. Although Alice and I are the same age, she's older by a few months and finds pleasure in teasing me about it, constantly.

She wasn't actually my sister, either, well not by blood. But if any were to ask, I would say she is. She was adopted by Carlisle and Esme when she was five, along with her brother, Emmett. Carlisle and Esme, despite how hard they tried, were unable to conceive a child and so adopted instead.

I joined the family when I was eleven. My parents were both murdered. Carlisle is my father's brother and the only relative capable of being my guardian.

Alice took a shine to me immediately and it didn't take long for me to grow fond of her either, though the only feelings I've ever felt towards her are brotherly. It took me a bit longer to take a liking to Emmett; he's older than Alice and I by a year, however, that wasn't what bothered me. Even then he had an intimidating build, which later was filled with a mass amount of muscle. I was afraid that he would hurt or maim me, my parent's death making me suspicious of everyone, and so was hesitant around him. I soon came to realise that he was the definition of 'don't judge a book by its cover' when I saw him cower behind Alice because a moth had fluttered past him. He's still scared of them.

From then on I finally relaxed and formed close relationships with all my new family. Carlisle and Esme never pressured any of us to call them 'Mom' or 'Dad'. Alice quickly called them that though, having been in a home for the majority of her life, left with only vague memories of her real parents. Emmett soon followed her example.

It took me a while, but over the six years I'd been with them I occasionally called them Mom and Dad – normally when I was in higher spirits, a feeling that was fairly foreign to me. Normally I referred to them as Esme and Carlisle though, especially if I had a more aggravating night. For the majority of my life I had lived with my real parents, unlike Alice and Emmett, and would always think of them as Mom and Dad. Carlisle and Esme understood that and I respected them greatly for it.

I was brought out of my thoughts by Alice waving a croissant in front of my face.

"If you don't get that out of my face I won't get that Vucci, or whatever, bag you wanted for Christmas" I threatened playfully.

"It's Gucci and you wouldn't dare," she gasped, her hand retreating quickly. "Wait, you getting me a Gucci bag for Christmas?" she squealed.

"Nope, I just knew it would make you get your breakfast away from face" I laughed.

She huffed and proceeded to throw said breakfast at me. I caught it in my hand and took a bite. Guess it was my breakfast now.

"If you answered my question you wouldn't have had it in your face anyway," she mumbled, still annoyed at me.

"I'm sorry, what was it?" I asked, taking another bite of the croissant.

"I asked what it is you wanted. You're sucking up to Mom and it's not even nine yet, shouldn't you still be grouchy and moody?" she asked with a smirk.

"Oh shut up, you midget incarnation of the devil" I joked, she rewarded me by sticking out her tongue.

"I'm just happy, I got a full five hours of sleep last night" I explained with a shrug. It wouldn't seem much to others, but to me it was a good night's sleep.

"Oh well done sweetie!" Esme exclaimed. She was always overjoyed when I got sleep; even it was just for an hour.

"Thanks Mom" I said, finishing my breakfast and gulping down a glass of water. Her eyes shone and a smile broke out on her face, no matter how many times I called her Mom her reaction never changed, it made me want to call her it all the time.

Despite Alice's foul mood, I saw a tiny smile escape her. "Still, I wouldn't mind something" I continued.

"I knew it!" Alice beamed.

"Mom, could you please put that thing over there," I said, pointing at Alice, "back in the wild where it came from, it's starting to stink up the place."

I got an apple thrown at the back of my head.

I fled to the Games Room and set up the Xbox, hiding in case Alice wanted throw anything else at me, like the entire collection of Shakespeare. She'd done it once; I wouldn't put it past her to do it again. Do _not_ swap someone's shampoo for blue hair dye; there do not appreciate it, at all. That's all I'm saying.

I fell back onto the settee, ready to play mind-numbing games for a few hours. Our house was fairly larger than others in Forks. It rested on the outskirts, surrounded by trees and wildlife. Esme's an interior designer and the house was one of her projects. It belonged to an elderly couple who wanted it refurbished to sell it for a small profit so they could retire to a small house near the beach. The house soon won over Esme's heart and while it took some time to gather the money up, they eventually bought it.

I had offered the inheritance I had been given. It was a fair amount since it was my mother's and father's combined. They refused, saying that it was my money, not theirs. I protested, insisting that I wanted them to have it, but they were adamant, much to my dismay.

After my sixth round of killing zombies I felt Emmett sit next to me, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and gave a quick 'hey'.

"Good sleep?" he asked, grabbing a controller.

"Yeah," I replied, putting two player mode on.

"Sweet, maybe now you'll have enough energy to stop sucking so much and be at least half decent, you play like a little girl. You'll never be as fuck-awesome as moi," he said, laughing. I scoffed.

The day was spent killing endless amounts of zombies and protecting Emmett's useless ass while he ran around burning from his own flamethrower. _Fuck-awesome my ass._

As we sat down for dinner he glared at me from across the table. "You've been practicing, haven't you?" he accused.

"Maybe," I said innocently. Sometimes insomnia has its benefits.

After the lasagne, half of which Emmett devoured by himself, and the movie _Easy A_ that Alice convinced me to watch - which was pretty good, though I would never admit that to her - I retreated to my den.

It was the smallest room of the house, occupied by a laptop, shelves of books and a plush chair comfortable enough to sleep in – well that was the idea anyway. It was another attempt at curing me of my insomnia.

Associate your bedroom only with sleeping and sex, the Doctor had advised me.

Instantly Bella invaded my head, as she always did when I was thinking about _that._ I was glad no-one was around to see my cheeks tainted with red.

The Doc told me to have anything else, like reading, working and playing games, outside my room, so that when I thought of my bedroom and bed, I only thought of sleeping. Well, and...you know.

I slouched against the back of the desk chair and booted up the laptop. Curiosity took the better of me and I went to my letter, to see what comments people had left. I was worried that my thoughts would be confirmed; that they would call me insane, a creep who should get a life and realise that the girl was way out of my league. I hoped that instead I would find people giving me guidance as to what I should do, how to tell her, telling me I was right for my rekindled hope.

I was met with neither. Instead there was a single comment: 'That was beautiful, she'd be lucky to have someone even remotely similar to you to call her boyfriend.'

Well that didn't help. I put my hand through my 'bronze' hair, as Esme likes to call it, and groaned in frustration. It didn't really give me an answer. If they'd at least told me how moronic and naïve I was being, then I could try to move on, yet I doubt I would have been able to. Of course I would have preferred a wise comment from someone who had gone through the same situation as me. Reassuring me that things would work out in the end, telling me that I would just _know _when to tell her, or some other soppy crap you hear in chick flicks.

I stared at the screen, praying that something would miraculously click in my brain, for some epiphany as to how I should tell my best friend about how I have undying love for her and have done from almost the day we met.

See, I knew it wasn't a situation of _if_ I should tell her my feelings, but _when_ I should tell her.

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><p><strong>Review please, it makes me grin like a fool for days.<br>**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the new found knowledge of the many ways to say sleep. **

**Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>BPOV<strong>

I fell on top my bed with an exhausted sigh, kicking off my boots as I closed my eyes. I was too tired to change from my jeans to something more comfortable and knew I would regret the decision later, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

It was only six but I was always emotionally drained after coming back from visiting her. When I first started visiting I was a wreck, the built up rage and anger becoming too much and I would finally take it out on unsuspecting things I found scattered around my floor and throw them at the wall. Charlie, my dad, would rush in and grab my hands, rendering them useless so I would resort to kicking and screaming. He would stand there, taking it all. His eyes would betray his indifferent face and reveal the sadness that consumed him.

It wouldn't take long before I had run out of anger and hatred, crying instead. He would hug me close to his chest, softly murmuring how it was going to be okay, I wasn't alone, we would get through it together. I would cling onto him; fisting his shirt until I'm sure it ripped, latching on to his every word, praying he was telling the truth.

If anyone witnessed the scenes, they would be stunned. Charlie and I aren't ones known for displaying emotions.

Over time I learnt to control the overwhelming emotions, instead converting it into exhaustion. I would wait until we had arrived back home before I rushed upstairs, letting sleep claim me.

I awoke to the darkness of night, the moonlight that filtered through my windows, the curtains not drawn, my only source of light. I rolled over, retrieving my phone from the floor, where it always ended up on these days. I groaned as I read half five, my sleeping pattern was repeatedly fucked after I'd gone to sleep too early.

I stretched and got up, stumbling over my shoes. I changed into sweats and a tank top, feeling stiff in the clothes I had confined myself in. I turned the light on to prevent myself from having a more disastrous tumble, grace was not my forte.

I sent Edward, my amazing best friend, a text asking him if he was up. After five minutes and still no reply I knew he had managed to visit the land of nod. I smiled, happy he was able to get the sleep he deserved.

He always thought I was being selfless and kind hearted when I sent him texts, checking to see if he were awake or not, before phoning him. I hadn't told him where it is I go on the mysterious visits. So he didn't know the phone calls were selfish, I needed to hear his voice soothe me while I waited for the sun to rise. I know it upset him, not telling him where it is I go, which in turn makes me upset. But I don't feel comfortable letting my guard down, showing someone my vulnerable side. Everyone assumed I was strong, almost incapable of emotions, the blush that always invaded my cheeks being my only betrayal.

I know I'd shown him that side before, when Jacob had broken up with me, but I couldn't help it. Despite Charlie being at work when it happened, I knew I couldn't confide in him, it would break his heart to know that the boy that was practically his son was such scum.

It wasn't a constant thing either. Though it had taken a while for me to mend from Jacob's cruel actions, I had eventually gotten over it.

This was different. I was permanently breaking down, knowing it would torment me for my life. I couldn't let people see behind the defensive walls I'd built, revealing such sensitivity - being so exposed.

I carefully trekked down the stairs, trying to avoid the creaking steps. I went to the kitchen to make some tea, hoping it would help me back to slumber. I turned on the T.V while I waited for it to cool down, flipping through the channels. Adverts and sale shows greeting me on every channel. I finally found a programme I enjoyed and groaned in annoyance, realising it was one of the shows I'd seen countless times before. I turned the television off, telling it how useless it was and walked back upstairs.

I sipped on the tea, revelling in the warmth that flowed through my throat to my stomach as the computer loaded up. Whilst my mother was on one of her many fads, she had come across a few sites were people could anonymously let loose their feelings be it depression, fear, sadness or humour, all for the world to read. She had recommended them to me and I would use them often. Especially after the visits. It comforts me to know that there are people far worse off than I. I know it sounds cruel, but in the times when I'm a state of self-pity it's what I need to wake myself up and realise I haven't got it that bad.

I went on one of my favourite sites, where people can write letters about events, dreams, people and so much more. There were so many morose stories that it was easy to find the positives in my life. My life was a walk in a park compared to some people; I just needed to remember that.

Slowly the soft glow of my lamp and computer, along with the comforting and reassuring words of the letter in front of me were lulling me back to sleep. I promised myself two more before I got some more shut eye.

I scrolled through and landed on one, from the day before, that looked interesting. I was tentative, as it was obvious it was about relationships, but decided to carry on anyway, my gut or intuition or whatever people call it, telling me to read it.

My heart increased its pace and my palms became sweating as I read. It was too weird, too similar.

The ex-boyfriend that cheated so soon after splitting up, the comforting best friend, the ice-cream and Scrubs combination that aided heal the pain, along with the help from _him_.

I sucked in a sharp breath. This wasn't..._no_, it couldn't be... but it was.

I knew it was him when the letter went on about someone - _me_ - moving from Phoenix to a small, rainy town. There were too many similarities for it to be a coincidence.

I was certain when he said E.A Games. How many people had those initials? Who else would call someone by that name? It _was _him_. _

Tears rolled down my face as I read his wonderful words, the saltiness falling on my tongue as I opened my mouth to let out another quiet sob.

I could barely see, tears obscuring my vision, by the time I had read it all. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, not caring if I was covered in snot. I read the words and over and over until I knew them verbatim.

His words were so honest and true. I could feel the anguish within them, intertwining with timid hope.

I leaned over and retrieved the box of tissues on the corner of my desk, grabbing a hand full and blowing my nose into them. I threw them haphazardly onto the floor whilst getting some more and drying my eyes with them. I try to keep the cries and sobs to me quiet, to prevent Charlie from waking up and seeing me in such a state. It had been so long since he had seen me a crying mess, and I wanted to keep it that way.

I read it once more, whispering the words before I even read them. The realisation came at me at full force, knocking the breath out of me. I mean, I _knew_ I just hadn't really believed it yet.

My best friend just confessed his love for me, to the internet.

I dissolved into a fresh wave of tears, more tissues being harshly pulled from the box and to my face. I was too worked up to even contemplate going back to sleep, the realisation left me through an annoyed sigh.

The sobs gradually turned into quiet whimpers and the tears had slowed from a waterfall to an occasional drip and drop, like a tap that hadn't been turned off properly.

With shaky hands and shallow breaths I started to right a comment, I felt obligated to do so. He had gone to the internet to let emotions that were obviously suffocating him, out, all without meaning to tell me at the same time. The least I could do was tell him how extraordinary his words were.

I sat for twenty minutes typing and deleting, growing agitated at my inability to produce words to describe how spectacular I thought he was, whilst not giving myself away. Did I feel the same way? Was that what the feeling that rooted itself in me every time I saw him, heard him laugh, saw him smile, was?

Of course I felt the electrical spark that passed between us when we touched. I'd always thought that it was due to friction or some other scientific explanation. Now that I'd actually thought it over, I realised how stupid I sounded. I groaned in annoyance at myself, rubbing a hand across my face.

How could I have been so blind to my own emotions? The erratic pulse of my heart every time he's near; the shiver that would flow down my back when he whispered in my ear; the yearning to brush my hand through his luscious locks, how could I have ignored them? I scolded myself for neglecting such prominent feelings.

I'd always thought I would instinctively know who I would love, picturing it set out so perfectly. We would catch each other's eyes from across the street, my heart hammering in my chest, or the cliché dropping books and he would help me pick them, in the process getting captured in each other's gazes. I read too many romance novels.

I should have known, Jacob was a prime example of real life love and how terrible it can be. I do think I loved him, though Edward was right when he said I had practically been pressured into the relationship. The fatherly adoration Charlie felt for Jacob was undeniable and I felt I had to make him happy, to make up for all the suffering I'd put him through with my emotional turmoil. He had been ecstatic when I announced Jacob and I was a couple, immediately I knew it was the right thing to do, seeing the beaming smile that graced his face. The love I felt for Jacob was more of a friendship kind of love, my mind making me believe it was romantic.

When I had to tell Charlie about the break up, despite the hatred I felt towards Jacob, sadness still crept in. I knew Charlie would be upset, disappointed, though he would never admit it. I told him we had no similarities or connection and so ended it. Which is true, it was one of the reasons I broke up with him; the only poet he knew of was Dr. Seuss. The fact that he cared more about cars, food and his bed more than me didn't really bowed well with me either. I left out that he had gotten over me already, screwing women before the week was over.

I knew Edward was different, he already valued me that anything else, even I could see that. I had confessed to him all my regrets, but one and I knew I could depend on him with my life.

Was I ready to love him though?

Could I break down that mile tall, steal barrier I had created to protect myself? I had tried with Jacob, but he always brushed it off saying that if it made me so upset I shouldn't say it. I use to think he said that because he didn't want to see me sad, now I realise it's because he didn't care.

I knew I'd be a blubbering wreck if I told Edward something I wish he didn't have to see. I knew he'd want to join me, to comfort me, I just didn't know if I could put him through that. Every time without fail I ended up with tears streaking my face, eyes red and puffy, choking back sobs. He would have to see me like that time and time again. I don't know if he could handle that. I don't know if I could, seeing the fear etched into his features, uselessly trying to calm and comfort me. What if he couldn't cope? What if he laughed in my face and told me I was an idiot that got emotional over nothing. What if he left me, taking our friendship away with me?

I shuddered at the thought, a lone, last tear escaped, trailing down my cheek and dripping onto my chest from my chin.

He wouldn't do that – he couldn't. He wasn't allowed to, it would break me.

I shook my head, trying to clear my head from the sombre thoughts. Edward wouldn't do that to me, he's showed me nothing but affection since I've known. He didn't have it in him to hate me.

That's what I wanted to believe anyway.

With a resounding sigh my shaky hands glide across the keyboard, my drained mind unable to produce anything better than: _that was beautiful, she'd be lucky to have someone even remotely similar to you to call her boyfriend._

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><p><em><strong>LettersI'llNeverSend<strong>_** is an actual site and where I got the inspiration for this story. You should go check it out, it's cool. **

**Review and you'll make my day_ and_ night.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, I own a S Club Junior CD but no-one wants to admit to that.**

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><p>I spent the next few hours reading monotonous Facebook statuses, finding solace in the average and mundane life of others, commenting occasionally on a friend's picture, convincing them that were indeed pretty - feeding them the words they wanted to hear.<p>

I was adamant on going to see Edward, I felt compelled to see him straight away. I waited until nine to text him, telling him I would be over soon; I knew that he would definitely be up by then.

I bounded down the stairs, going to prepare some breakfast. I wasn't sure if the feeling that swelled inside me was happiness or worry.

I changed into a clean pair of jeans and put on a top, brushing my hair quickly before pulling on some converses and heading to Edward's. I didn't need to leave a note telling Charlie where I would be, I had heard him leave for work around six, and it wasn't out of the ordinary for me to be with Edward during the holidays anyway.

For once the slow pace of my truck annoyed me, wanting to be with Edward as soon as possible. When I finally reached his house, Alice answered the door after I knocked. A gust of wind invaded her house, making her short, black hair flutter around her delicate face.

She greeted me with a smile and "hi."

"Hey," I replied, my voice coming out hoarse.

She frowned, "are you okay?" I scolded myself internally for the betrayal of my voice and making her suspicious. I coughed, clearing my throat.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I said, trying to reassure her in a tone that wouldn't show the mixed emotions running throughout me.

"If you say so," she shrugged, the line in the middle of her brow letting me know she didn't believe a word.

"Oh yeah, so I wanted to ask if you're doing anything Tuesday evening? There's a new horror that just came out," she asked.

Alice was almost as much of a best friend to me as Edward was and we often went to the cinema together to watch the latest 'scary' films. We normally commented on how fake the blood and gore looked and ended up being completely unimpressed with the main characters poor acting.

"That's sound great, though you can't throw popcorn in my mouth this time," I warned. The last one we had seen sucked so much I feel asleep. Apparently I was snoring with my mouth wide open with drool sliding down my face and Alice had found it much more entertaining throwing popcorn into my gob than to watch the movie. I wasn't happy to wake up choking.

"I make no promises" she winked.

She led me into The Den where Edward sat, hunched over his laptop.

"Hey," I said, startling him. He jumped and rapidly shut the lid of the laptop, swivelling around on his chair with a guilty expression.

I raised my left eyebrow, silently asking him what the hell that was about. He shrugged and stood, scratching the back of his neck. The action caused his shirt to rid up a little revealing part of his perfect stomach. I was so fascinated that I didn't hear the "hi" he offered or the four strides it took for him to be in front of me.

His breath fanned across my face and in that moment any feelings apart for nervousness washed away.

My eyes trailed along his body, as if seeing him for the first time. The blue and black Vans her wore covered in dirt from the amount of times he wore them; his long slender legs were clad in faded black jeans that hung loosely around his hips; a light blue polo shirt hiding his sculpted chest from my prying eyes. Finally my gaze left his strong arms and long fingers, up to his chiselled jaw, up above his soft – extremely kissable – lips. It passed flawlessly angled nose - which he had broken twice before, both in play fighting matches with Emmett. Skipping his eyes, I admired his hair instead, the usual bronze mess that would be a vain attempt to try and do anything with. My inspection went back down, to his eyes, to find the emerald orbs filled with amusement.

I blinked, finally breaking the trance I was in and noticed the smirk he had on, and realised he caught me checking him out. _It wasn't exactly subtle_ I chided myself.

I couldn't help it; it was as though throughout the entire time I had known him, I had my eyes shut. Now they were finally open.

I always knew Edward was attractive; he had practically every girl fawning for him. He was the definition of Lothario and he didn't even know it. I just never realised he was beautiful.

I stepped back, the close proximity and his musky scent of things I couldn't distinguish making my head spin. I shook my head slightly and blinked a few times, clearing my thoughts. I looked at him again and notice his furrowed brows. Ignoring the demand to soothe the lines with my lips coming from my brain, I asked him what the matter was.

"You have bags under your eyes," he states as he tentatively placined a finger under my eye.

"Oh," I said, turning my head, and in the protest making the fizzle his finger to my check was creating dissolve as he retrieved his digit. It was my turn to frown, I was usually so careful to put concealer on so nobody could see the night take its toll on me. I was a bit preoccupied.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, I was up doing my homework for English," I lied, guilt consuming me.

He rolled his eyes at me, scolding me for working too much. An awkward laugh left me while I shrugged; he raised an eyebrow at me but says nothing of it.

"Where's my hug then?" he asked, opening his arms up. This wasn't unusual; we normal greeted each other with one. I hadn't realised how much we hugged, was that normal for friends?

I stepped into his embrace, wrapping my arms around him and squeezed, resting my head on his shoulder. Do friends normally hug for this long?

It was true that the most my other friends got where a wave or awkward one arm hugged. Apart from Alice and Emmett of course, Alice would betray the weakness that one suspected from a person as small as herself when she would almost squeeze me to death. Emmett would simply pick me up, breaking a lung or two in the process and plop me back down, ruffling my hair with a grin.

I never hugged them for this long though, or basked in the comfort the warmth of their body gave me, their smell alone making me feel safe. No, only Edward could do that.

I was amazed that I hadn't noticed the reactions I had to Edward, how were they possible to ignore? They were so significant and pronounced; I really was flabbergasted that I hadn't noticed them.

"That's better," he joked, pulling away. "So what do you want to do?" he asked.

I shrugged and let him lead to the kitchen as he told me that Esme had just made some blueberry muffins and they were heavenly. I moaned as my teeth sunk into the juicy goodness and out of the corner of my eye I saw Edward's eyes widen and his face turn pale. I grinned.

After I had finished and licked all the crumbs from the side of my mouth and fingers, anxiety crept back inside me and I wrung my hands in front of me, waiting for Edward to finish his second muffin. I couldn't help but notice the faint blue trickle of berry down his chin and had the sudden urge to lick it off, again leaving me wondering how I had been so clueless.

"Before I forget – you know how terrible my memory is – do you mind if I go up to your bedroom real quick? I was talking to my Mom last night and we were having a debate about who composed this song she was listening to the other day and I just know that you'll have it" I lied, again.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he mumbled, a face full of muffin.

"Thanks," I said, before rushing up to his bedroom.

Although he would say his house wasn't that huge or ostentatious, we all knew it was. It had three floors, with enough guest bedrooms to accommodate my politics class, if the rooms hadn't been converted to offices and entertainment rooms.

I opened his door, stepping into his large room, the king size bed in the middle made look bigger due to the lack of items. The only other things in the room were a wardrobe and set of drawers, containing his clothes and underwear, two ceiling to floor shelves and another, a small and singular shelf containing a few framed photographs and an alarm clock, the time facing away.

He had told me long ago the reasoning for it, why there so little in such a big room. I knew he was irked that he couldn't have his room like everyone else.

I walked over to the two tall shelves, and vast collection of CD's they held. He had refused to have them anywhere but his room, explaining to me that he wanted some normalcy, to not feel like a freak that couldn't have things in their bedroom because they wouldn't be able to sleep if they were there. He had tried to keep it light and playful when telling me, but I could see the tight lipped smile and the hardening of his eyes.

I picked up a CD, needing an alibi for when I went back downstairs. I had really gone up here to read his sleep diary, a notebook where he recorded how much exercise, caffeine, food etc. he had done/eaten. It was supposed to help with his sleep, I didn't understand how but I went along with it anyway.

Though I was almost a hundred percent sure it was him that was the author of the beautiful letter a miniscule trace of doubt had started to grow during the hours of the morning, gnawing at me. Even if it was as small as the nuclei of an atom, it still lingered, it was still there.

I flipped through the pages of previous months and weeks, finally landing on the page I needed. I skimmed through the 'Friday' to realise that it was about Thursday night – boy, could he be confusing. I quickly scanned over 'Saturday', taking into account that he had done two hours of exercise, had no caffeine or alcohol and had fajitas for dinner, wondering if any of those facts helped the hours of sleep he got increase.

Eventually I came across 'Feelings.' I read the single sentence he had written in his elegant script: '_I just told the internet how much I love Bella; my feelings are kind of mixed right now.' _

Before I could comprehend what was happening, the page was being splattered with my tears.

The person I could act like a complete child with, making mud pies as though we were five _liked_ me. The one who was so sweet, caring and amazing – qualities seldom used to describe a guy – had feelings stronger than friendship for me. Edward, the only other person apart from my family to see me at my worst, _loved_ me.

I smiled through the tears, a warm, fuzzy feeling floated in my stomach – making me feel queasy, but in a bizarrely good way - it wormed its way to my chest, spreading to my arms and left, toes and fingers, making them tingle.

I laughed bubbled out me. I felt euphoric.

He loved me. Edward loved me.

My back stiffened and my laughter stopped as I heard the door creak open.

"Bella?" Edward's velvety voice asked me.

"Ludovico Einaudi," I said, slamming the book shut.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are better than sleep to me, and I frickin' <em>love<em> sleeping.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: We've already discovered I own nothing but poor music taste. Though to be fair I think I got the CD when I was 7 and haven't listened to it since.**

**Enjoy.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>I was pretty sure I messed up saying the name. It was the only one I could remember from browsing through the sea of artists, of course the only one I could recall would be a rather difficult to pronounce.<p>

He raised his left eyebrow. "What are you on about?"

"The composer... who wrote that song I was on about. I was right, mom was convinced it was someone else," I clarified with a nervous laugh, sounding more like a wheezing cough.

"Oh, and what was the song?" he asked, unconvinced with my pathetic lie.

"Um, er, I can't remember now," another awkward and embarrassing laugh stumbled out. "Well I can - it's just that I just can't pronounce it" I said too quickly, attempting to amend myself.

His raised his eyebrow higher. "Of course," he said flatly, still not believing me. His eyes flickered to my hands and back to my before he asked "what's that in your hands?"

"Nothing?" I said, my voice going higher in pitch at the end, making it sound more like a question.

"It doesn't look like nothing" he stated, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Well maybe you need your eyes checked" I suggested, ashamed of my pitiful responses. He didn't answer, opting to raise his eyebrow higher instead.

I glanced down, trying to hide the guilt.

I was silent for a while, too embarrassed to speak. When I realised he wasn't going to drop the subject, I sighed internally and continued to embarrass myself further. "Oh, you mean this?" I asked, feigning surprise and idiocy while holding the book up higher.

"Yes I mean that," he confirmed nodding his head once.

"Well, it's a book" I said, stating the obvious, eyes innocent.

"I can see that" he retorted with an eye roll. "But I only have one book in this room, you know that."His eyebrow lifted impossibly higher on his forehead and I became distracted for a moment, wondering if it could actually reach past his head, like it does on cartoons.

I bought myself out of my procrastinating thoughts. "Well this must be it then" I declared, the fake shock still entwined with overacted stupidity.

"No shit Sherlock," he mumbled, slowly making his towards me.

My heart started to hammer in my chest. I wanted to be able to confess the knowledge of his love for me on my own terms, after I'd interacted with him more and observed his actions in a new, better light. To realise how blind and moronic I had been. I wanted to reciprocate that love and adoration. I wanted more time.

I want never gets.

I knew that I'd have to tell him, that there was no way of getting out of it. I was amazed at myself that one of my lies actually worked, the blush that descend upon my cheeks without permission usually giving me away - I was lucky to have gotten this far. My brain became blank and useless as I tried to think of a reason as to why I would be intruding into his book. My luck had disappeared, leaving me to fend for myself.

"Why do you have my sleep journal?" he asked. The words seem to trigger something off inside his head. As he says them his eyes widen into saucers and flood with panic, his movements became rigid as he took the final steps to reach me, perched on the end of his bed.

He snatched said book out of my hands and the sudden action surprised me, preventing me from grabbing it back.

"C'mon Edward, we all know it's a diary," I teased, trying to lighten the mood. The blood draining from his face, looking at me in horror and panic told me the effort was in vain.

Neither of us said anything for a while, his eyes would constantly alternate from staring at me in alarm, to the book and back, while I tried to avert my gaze from his distressed demeanour.

A few choking sounds escaped him every so often and I would chance a glance at him in worry to find his face still the same.

I don't know what I expected to happen, maybe for someone to barge through the door and break the awkward tension that was palpable, or for him to escape the hysteria induced trance he was in and forget the past ten minutes. Neither of the miracles happened and I knew I had to confess to him, it was obvious he wasn't going to say anything for a long time.

I coughed, hoping courage would escape along with the air, out of my throat and into my mouth, it didn't. I straightened my back, trying to figure out the best way to say '_hey, after I had a mental breakdown I went on some sites to help remind myself that there are a lot more people with much crappier lives than me and I happened to stumble upon your letter admitting your love for me. What a coinkey dink, huh?'_

Yeah, that probably wouldn't be the best way.

I sucked in a final breath and looked at my hands, fingers nervously twiddling with each other, before I blurted out "I read it."

My mind failed to remember giving my mouth permission to move but the words were out before I could stop them.

I looked at him from under my eyelashes and I saw his face go impossibly paler. I watched as his eyes never left me and as his Adams apple bobbed up and down from a worried gulp.

"The journal?" he asked so quietly I could barely hear him.

"And the letter" I whispered.

"Oh god," he groaned, his face finally changing. His eyes were shut and his brow was burrowed so deeply I was sure it was trying to reach the end of his nose. His jaw clenched and he looked as though he were about to be sick.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, I just had to let it out and I _know_ you don't feel the same way about me, despite how hard and long I dream you do - the irony huh? When do I sleep long enough to dream? I mean I-I know lately I've been graced with an abundance of sleep but that scarcely happens. Maybe that's why, if only I would sleep long _every_ day, my dreams would turn into reality. Like that's going to happen, who am I kidding?

"Oh god and now I'm rambling and you're probably scared shitless. Oh god I should really shut up, but my mouth just won't stop working, gah! It-it's okay if you want to leave, in fact it would be be-better that way, you can just go so when I open my eyes I won't have to see the horror and hate you feel towards my right now. I promise I won't bug you anymore; I'll - I won't talk or interact with you ever again. It'll be hard but I'll do it – I will, for you. It'll be as if I never existed," he whooshed out, his face contorting into a mask of pain, as though saying the words caused him physical agony. He dug the heel of his palms up across his face and gradually crouched down, until he was sitting and puts his head in between his legs, hands still firmly covering his face. Breaths left him in a rush and I wasn't entirely sure but I had the suspicion he was having the beginning of a panic attack.

"Just know that if you can hide – if you can get past the fear of my creepiness one day and can stand the sight of me again, I'll be there willing to be whatever you want me to be, be it friend, best friend or m-more. I'll be waiting, always. I-I just thought I should tell you before I'm gone from your life." He ranted, stumbling over his words. The wall his hands created made his words muffled, but I still heard them perfectly, my attention was focused solely on him. The small gaps between his fingers allowed me to see his that his eyes were still firmly shut and a droplet fell onto one of his shut eyelids from the cold sweat that made his forehead shine.

I'd never seen him that way, so vulnerable and confused and frazzled. He was normally so well collected and knew precisely what he was going to say. To hear him so unsure of his self and the anxiousness dripping from his voice was worrying, I felt compelled to do whatever it took to make him feel comfortable, for him to be his usual self.

At first I was too stunned to say anything. How could he think – this amazingly beautiful man before me – presume that I wouldn't want him in my life, even if I did have feelings for him or not? Every day I felt honoured to be in the presence of someone so incredible. How could I throw that away?

Okay, seriously, how the _hell_ did I ignore these feelings? It's frickin' obvious I'm smitten with him. Yes _smitten_. I don't care if it's a word my Nan would use, it's the closest word to describe how I felt about him.

Even now, he looked magnificent to me, despite the deathly whiteness of his face, the heavy breathing which was the only sound filling the room and his hands, full of his hair as he tried to tear it out of his scalp, making his knuckles almost tear out of his skin. He was still stunning.

Slowly his head lifted up, hands dropped to his sides. His breathing was still frantic but it had calmed slightly. Once again his eyes widened, surprised to see me still there, before him, and not halfway down the stairs intent on rushing home and forgetting that he was ever in my life. I shuddered, even imagining doing so was an almost impossible task.

"Wh-why are you still here?" he asked quietly, the frown returned, but it quickly disappeared, his mouth opened in shock instead.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I questioned with a timid smile, he didn't offer one back like I hoped he would, opting to scowl at the floor instead.

"Because I admitted to strangers the love I feel for you but lack the balls to say it to you, the person who actually matters," his said his voice quiet and filled with frustration.

"Because you should be offended by someone like me even thinking they had a chance with you," he muttered to himself, not realising I'd heard.

"How could you think that?" I asked baffled at how he could think of himself so lowly.

He bowed his head, his fingers toying with a loose thread on his jeans, "because it's true."

"Edward," I said, wanting to gain his attention. Only his fingers moved, pulling at the thread, wrapping it around his index finger. "Edward, look at me," I demanded to no avail. "_Edward"_ I said sternly. He reluctantly raised his head, green orbs filled with sadness and fear bore into my bewildered brown ones.

"How could you think so lowly of yourself - of me?" I asked. He opened his mouth to speak but I ignored him, continuing. "How could you think I would abandon you? Do you really think I value our friendship that little, that I would walk out on you when you're obviously so distressed? All before I can even voice what I actually feel, not what you assume I feel." I ask softly, watching as his gaze lowers and the scowl returns.

The loose thread is wrapped around his finger once, twice, three times before he speaks. "How do you feel then?"

I got up off of the bed, lowering myself onto my knees in front him and unwound the fibre tied around his finger so tight it made it turn purple. "I feel flattered. Charmed that someone could think so highly about me" I say. Neither of us takes our eyes of my hands slowly setting his finger free.

I hear him sigh and grumble "I knew you would never feel anything but friendship towards me."

I didn't respond, silently trying to figure out the best way to voice what I had to say. I mull it over for a while before deciding to just voice whatever comes to my mind since I knew that my silence was killing him.

"I don't know why you're so dead set on me not feeling _more_ for you. You make me out to be some sort of higher being; I'm really not, far from it. I make mistakes like everyone else; I fuck things up just like the rest. I was ignorant to emotions so obvious and prominent, just like so many out there. I think that someone else is much greater than they actually are, instantly thinking they're unattainable – just liked you do. That they would never want you, that you're not good enough for them, that you don't _deserve_ them. "

I looked at him, trying to show him what I meant, what I failed to say. He stared back, confusion prominent. Our gaze never faltered until realisation dawned across his face and he looked away, glaring out the window.

"You mean...You-You don't hate me?" he asked cautiously.

A laugh escaped me and I smiled, taking his large hands in mine. "No, I don't hate you Edward; I don't think I have in me to hate you." I admitted, lightly squeezing his hands.

His stared at me for a while, disbelief etched his features. "Really?"

"Really" I say with a quick smile, trying to get him to believe me.

I sighed and looked down at our hands, amazed at how small he made my hands look in comparison to his.

"Edward, it's taken me a while, far too long actually, to realise this, but I..." I inhale slowly, capturing his eyes with my own. "I may not have known it until recently, and when I say recently I mean today, but for quite some time now, though I'm not sure how long-"

"Bella," Edward said with a raised eyebrow and small smile graced the corner of his mouth, ending my rambling. There was still the fear and worry in his eyes though.

A blush creets across my face. "Sorry."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, that well, I kind of _do_ have feelings stronger than friendship for you, despite how hard you believe otherwise," I confessed, with a small smile at the end.

He beamed, his entire face lighting up, but before he could say anything I held a finger up and continued, "I just have to tell you something before we start a relationship or whatever. I have to and I _will _tell you - if this is going to work - where I go on my infamous and mysterious trips, since I know you're curious." I laugh slightly, trying to lighten the mood. "It won't be now, hell it might be months to come, I just have to let you know that when I do tell you, it'll be because I trust you, trust you more than anybody else. It'll mean you have my heart, and I just ask you one thing: please don't break it."

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body towards him. "Bella I've waited this long to hear that you _liked_ me, I could wait a while for you to tell me whatever it is you have to say. I know that it upsets you; you're always morose for a few days afterwards." I frowned, annoyed that I could be so easily read, especially after I thought I'd hide my emotions so well. "You can pretend that you kept your feelings locked inside, but I know you, I know when you're upset. Whatever it is, tell me when you're ready, I'll be there waiting," he told me, his breath hot on my neck, knowing what I was thinking.

"And as for your heart, I will cherish it as though it was the greatest gift Man could receive – which it is." he assured me reverently.

"Thank you, that's all I ask. In return I'll treat yours just the same," I promised him.

"I hope so, because you already have it."


	6. Chapter 5

**EPOV**

I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling, a shit eating grin spread across my face. Bella had gone home a few minutes earlier to prepare dinner for her and Charlie. Normally I would have insisted that she stayed here and that Charlie could come round too. She would decline of course, saying that she wouldn't want to impose and Esme would just laugh at her, gathering two extra plates from the cupboards.

However, it was different this time. Bella was now my...well, she was now _my_ Bella. I had waited so long to finally say that and for it to be true. I revelled in the warm feeling it gave me, it felt as though I were floating. It made me even more determined for it to stay that way. This meant I'd be over analysing my actions, weary and anxious that I had said or done something wrong. But I didn't want that to happen yet, I just wanted to bask in the joy of the past half hour, so, despite my brain screaming at me not to, I let her go. It was only for the night, I tried to reassure myself - I'd get to see her in the morning. I still wanted to take advantage of our new and improved relationship by hugging her, talking to her, touching her, doing anything, but with the new found knowledge that she liked me.

After her somewhat rambling proclamation of her likeness towards me and my overly soppy admittance that she claimed my heart, we had captured each other in a hug, our chest squashed together and lips mere millimetres apart. I gazed into her eyes, fear, anxiety and happiness shining from them and I'm pretty sure I reflected some of that too.

A soft hum had filled the air as her phone vibrated in her pocket, alerting her to a text. Her gaze didn't waver and she continued staring at me as though she hadn't heard it. I gave an internal shrug, happy she didn't want to ruin the moment. My eyes darted from her lips to her desire filled orbs.

Her mouth parted slightly, her warm breath fanning my face. Her tongue peaked out and licked her lips as her breath quickened. I inched forward; my own heavy breathing matched hers.

The humming started again, only for longer this time, signalling a phone call.

"Bel-" I murmured.

"Ignore it," she told me in a whisper.

I didn't respond, instead moving impossibly closer. I'm pretty sure she was holding her breath, though I couldn't hear much besides the pulse of my heart thrumming loudly in my ears.

I chanced one last look at her face, a small blush tainted her cheeks, and her eyes were scarcely open, eyelashes fluttering.

Slowly my eyelids closed, my head tilted to the left and my lips pursed. Closing the minuscule gap between us, I kissed her, on the forehead. "You should answer it, someone obviously wants your attention" I murmured.

I wanted our first kiss to be memorable and perfect, after she was wooed with dinner or some heroic act I had performed in front of her like saving someone's life, or rescuing a cat from a tree. Though my money was on the former happening before the latter.

Her eyes flew open, shock shining through them before it washed away, disappointed left in its place. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at me before pushing on my chest. The sudden and unexpected movement caught me off guard and I feel backwards with an "oomph."

"Sorry!" she apologised through a gasp, crawling so her legs were in-between mine and her hands were placed either side of my chest. She looked down at me, her hair creating a curtain of brown that smelled deliciously of strawberries. "Sorry," she said again, "but to be fair, you're a wimp. I didn't push you that hard," a slight grin formed and she winked at me.

I laughed with her, mesmerised at how beautiful she looked in that moment and the wonderful sound of her tinkling giggle.

"You, Miss Swan, are a lot stronger than you think," I told her, gently bringing her to my chest. "Besides, I wasn't expected it and I was sitting at an awkward angle," I lamely defended myself.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around my neck. A blissful tingling spread over where she touched and I sighed in happiness. I looked up at her and she too, had a face brimming with contentment.

My heart thudded dangerously fast and for a moment I wondered if it could actually beat out of my chest.

I grabbed her and rolled over, leaning back on my knees before I attacked her. "St-sto-s-stop!" she cried over giggles, trying to stop my assault of tickling on her.

I had hoped the alarming rate of my heart would calm if I stopped looking at her like I had, but instead I was gazing at the beautiful smile adorning her face, eyes shining with laughter induced tears.

"Not until you admit that I'm anything but a wimp," I told her, trying to break out of the trance she constantly had me in.

My fingers crawled along her ribs and stomach, having yet to hear her surrender. I attacked her feet quickly before her neck, all the while she tried to shove me off of her and swat my hands away. I was prepared this time though, and my body was rigid making it impossible for her to get me off.

"O-o" cue fit of breathless giggles, "o-kay! I give in! You're not a pansy, you're anything but. You're an incredible and amazing spectacle of a man, happy?" she shrieked as my fingers went to her sides.

I leaned back then stood, holding my hand out to her. She took it and I helped her up, pulling her closer than necessary. "Yes, I am happy now actually, and so is my ego." I told her, a lopsided grin formed on my face. My ego had been well and truly stroked to the point where it purred.

"Oh no, what have I done?" she gasped dramatically, rolling her eyes. "We don't need your head getting any bigger, you might fall over."

"Har har," I said, narrowing my eyes at her and giving her a final jab to her side, making her squirm.

Once all the teasing was over she fished her phone out of her pocket and sighed telling me it was her dad. Which brings me back to the present, staring at the swirls and twirls of my ceiling. It's supposed to calm me. It hasn't for the past five years it's been there.

After I pondered who I could pay to feign near death, then realising Bella would no doubt eventually find out and be more than pissed with me, Alice called me for dinner.

"Did Bella and Charlie not want to join us today?" Esme questioned once we were all seated.

"Oh, um, they, um didn't want to invade on Emmett's last week with us," I stuttered, hoping my cheeks didn't do a Bella and give me away, while at the same time proud of my convincing lie. Emmett was heading off to college the next week. It was only to Seattle but he stated that he wanted the full college experience.

"Oh that's nonsense. I'm sure Emmett wouldn't have minded, would you dear?" Esme asked him softly.

"Oh what? Yeah, sure, whatever" he said, his mouth full of food and his attention occupied with trying not to choke. At least, I hoped it was.

Esme scolded him for his poor etiquette and the conversation fell on Emmett and college, now that the subject and been brought up.

Once dinner had finished, and I had filled the dishwasher, I headed to the Games room, intending to join forces with Emmett and destroy the zombies once and for all. I realised I wouldn't have him soon to help me, and all my other friends were even crappier than him at the game.

I was stopped in my tracks by a midget, or Alice, as Esme insists I call her.

Before I could offer her a 'S'up' she spoke. "What's the real reason Bella didn't stay for dinner?" she asked, her hands resting on her hips.

"I told you, she felt like she was going to intrude if she did. You know what she's like," I said, trying to make my voice sound indifferent. By the way Alice's eyebrow raised and the glare she gave me, I'm guessing I failed.

"And I know what you're like. I know when you're lying. The fact that you looked like the world had been returned to Atlas's shoulders instead of yours when mom got distracted with topic of Emmett gave you away too."

Damn it. Since when was she so observant?

"Don't even think about lying to me either. I'll stick the encyclopaedia to the extended version of the dictionary together - along with Shakespeare's collection," the tone of her voice told me not to doubt her.

"Look, I will tell you. I just...I need time okay? I don't want to say anything and then it turn out to be...wrong," I told her sincerely.

I feared that after Bella had slept on it she would realise what a freak I was and rush back to her mom, screaming the entire way. I didn't want to gush to Alice about the improvement of mine and Bella's relationship and how it my feel so fuzzy and giddy...and _right_, all for Bella to change her mind. No, it was better if I waited before telling anyone.

The worry in my eyes and the slump of my shoulders made Alice's expression soften. "Okay. But you will tell me, soon." she told me, instead of asking.

"Soon," I agreed, happy she didn't try for more.

With a nod of her she turned on her heel and walked off. She stopped, her hand resting on the door frame of the kitchen. She turned her head my way slightly.

"She likes you, you know."

Before I could respond she had opened the door and I could hear her thanking Esme for the wonderful dinner.

I frowned, wondering how the hell she even knew what '_like' _was. She had only ever liked one guy, when she was younger, before I knew her. It was after she realised that boys did, in fact, not have cooties and saw all males in a new light. Said boy was also her babysitter, and seven years older than her.

I shook my head. There was no possible way Alice knew whether or not Bella truly liked me. Was there?

Emmett was all ready in their when I entered with my scowl still in place, saving me the journey upstairs to offer him a game.

He looked at me as I entered and handed me a controller. "What's gotten stuck up your ass?" he asked.

"Huh, what? Oh, I'm just pissed that I won't have you around anymore to thrash all the time," I joked, replacing the frown with a small smile.

"Ha! In your dreams!"

I glared at him.

"Oh..right. Sorry, didn't think," he confessed, an impish grin on his face.

"When do you ever?" I muttered.

"Oh, shut up. Just because you're going to miss your favourite brother when I'm gone" he teased, shoving me lightly.

"You're my only brother, you idiot," I pointed out.

"Yeah and that's why I'm your favourite, duh," he said, as though _I_ were the idiot.

I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything, my attention once again focused on hard as fuck to kill zombies.

We destroyed and slaughtered zombie upon zombie until two in the morning, when a yawn escaped me.

"Woah dude, do you do what I thought you did?" Emmett asked, sarcastic shock written all over his face.

"You think you're so funny," I grumbled, punching him in the arm.

"Correction - I _know_ I'm funny," he returned the punch, giving me a dead arm.

"Jack ass," I murmured, rubbing my arm.

"Pansy," Emmett retorted. What was it with people shooting down my masculinity?

We both stood up when the console turned off, heading up stairs.

"Sweet dreams," Emmett sang as he headed to his room.

"Horrible nightmares," I responded, in an equally fake happy singing voice.

He barked a laugh before shutting his door. I trudge to my room, sighing as I prepared myself for sleep. I sat on the edge of my bed, reminiscing how Bella was in the same position only hours before. I went to retrieve my sleep log - it's _not_ a diary, not matter what Bella says - only to remember that Bella had left it on my bare desk before she left.

I got up, fetching the book. It was settled between air and more air, replacing what should be miscellaneous objects. I freed the pen from its confinements of the spiral rings of the spine and scribbled down what was required. I paused when I reached feelings, debating what to put. Eventually I settled for: _I'm waiting for the girl I love to realise what a crazed freak I am and for her to run away and to receive a phone call from her dad telling me that if I ever went to find her he wouldn't think twice before throwing my ass in jail. I suppose I'm a little anxious, and scared. _

As I nestled into my mattress and buried my head in my pillows, after placing the book back under my bed, I waited for sleep to evade me. And waited. And waited. A waited some more.

Guess what I did next? I presume you guessed I waited. If you did, you're wrong. Okay, maybe you're not.

With a huff I threw my duvet off me and stomped down stairs, until I realised that Alice would kill me if I awoke her from her 'beauty sleep'. Then I tip toed down instead.

I jabbed the 'on' button repeatedly once I was seated in the Den, immensely annoyed at my incapability to sleep and the slowness of the laptop. When the Internet _finally _appeared before me I realised I didn't know what to do. Every site that popped into my head seemed boring or crap. I rubbed my hands across my face, my frustration increasing. I swivelled myself until I faced the wall and banged my head against it, deciding that I was going to make myself sleep by force.

When it did nothing more than provide me with pain I groaned and stood up, glaring at the room.

I felt useless. Any idea that forced its way into my head didn't appeal to me, making me more and more annoyed with myself.

I had an active and energetic brain trapped in a tired body. To say it sucked would be an understatement.

I finally dragged myself to the 'Music room' as Esme persisted we call it. The only thing occupying said room was my piano. Bella was right; we had more rooms than we knew what to do with.

Another attempt at easing the insomnia away was for me to listen to soothing music. Carlisle gave me a collection of classical CD's to listen to and while they had no affect on me getting to sleep, I found the flowing and mesmerising notes of the piano appeasing and longed to learn them. With great convincing to them, they quickly surrendered and I was a proud owner of a new baby grand piano. For months I would sit and practice, when I couldn't sleep, finding the stumbling and off tempo notes my hands produced frustrating yet soothing. It took a while but eventually I could play a few pieces without fault and presented the progressed I had made to my family often.

They all beamed at my new 'talent' showering me in praise. I'm nothing more than an all right mediocre but Esme would insist I'm just being humble. I'm still dubious.

I figured that I may as well play for a bit since I hadn't practised in a while. I strode to it with my hands in the pockets of my pyjama trousers. It was the room situated furthest away from the bedrooms so there was less chance of me waking them. It had a few strips of material that absorbed sound too. I laughed quietly; they had been added to the room after Alice had gotten a drum set for her birthday one year. She had insisted that it was the only thing she wanted and it was her dream to be able to play at least one instrument. Of course Esme and Carlisle had offered to get her a flute, violin or even double bass - I always found the idea of Alice sitting behind such a mammoth instrument amusing. She had responded with an appalled expression, telling them she wanted to learn a _good_ instrument, not one that was old fifty years ago.

So, with much reluctance they had gotten her the drum kit she desired. She only went to a few lessons before growing bored, but that didn't stop her from attacking the unfortunate instrument as though she were Dave Grohl. Finally Carlisle had put his foot down telling her that if she wouldn't have lessons then she couldn't play it. I don't think Bella saying that if she listened intently enough then she could her Alice from her house helped much either.

Gingerly I lifted the lid then sat down. With reverence my hands mutely glided across the keys and my mind was consumed with the sound each individual key produced. My fingers itched to fill the room with each note too and my hands danced across the keys with a mind of their own.

The room was immersed in the sound of Nuvole Bianche and I smiled and shook my head lightly. I should've known I would subconsciously choose a song composed by Ludovico Einaudi, the composer she had attempted to blurt out when I had caught her reading my sleep journal.

My smile vanished as the sickening fear overwhelmed again. It wasn't as intense as it was when she uttered that she had read the letter.

I was ashamed at myself that I didn't realise quicker. At first, when I had found her with my journal in her lap and I had figured she was just being curious. I had forgotten that my confession hid in there too. Suspicion gnawed at me when she acted so nervous and jittery, put I ignored it. Only when I had said 'sleep journal' aloud did the memory of what I had scrawled inside the previous night return and the blood drained from my face and it felt as though a ton of lead and been dropped on my chest. I found it hard to breathe and the muffins I had scoffed down threatened to make reappearance.

I had never felt so scared in my life. The person who was responsible for my happiness or sorrow sat with a glum expression, showing me that my worst fears were about to come alive.

When she had eventually told me she had _good _feelings for me, I thanked the God I had lost faith in years ago and a feeling of pure euphoria filled me. I can't describe how happy it made me.

As the last notes rang out in the air I tried to latch onto the feeling of utter bliss once more but it slowly faded away, along with the notes and I was left with acceptance and disappointment as I waited for the call from Bella telling me she had made a terrible mistake.


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey. Why has it been _seven months_ since I updated you ask? Life, basically. It got busy. Mainly with exams. Sorry about that.  
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**Forgive me and enjoy this chapter?**

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><p><em>As the last notes rang out in the air I tried the latch onto the feeling of utter bliss once again but it slowly faded away, along with the notes and I was left with acceptance and disappointment as I waited for the call from Bella telling me she had made a terrible mistake.<em>

I watched as my phone lit up and jumped from the vibrations. I waited a few seconds, letting the shrill ringing start before I sighed and picked it up in a vice grip. _Bella's House,_ with a picture of her stuck in the tree beside her window when we tried to sneak out one time to go to a party, greeted me.

Great, that meant she had probably already left for Phoenix and couldn't even stand the thought of speaking to me.

I had been sitting on my bed for the past couple of hours, waiting for her dad to call. I continued playing my piano until seven. I didn't want to be caught playing by Esme. I wasn't in the mood to perform in front of her or hear her praise. Instead, I went to the den and pulled out _The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic._ It was one of Alice's books that she had left in there. It was also a book Bella hated, and for that reason I began to read it. I don't know if it was because I didn't like the idea of shopping in the first place or if it was because the plot was crap, but for whatever reason I found it completely boring and before I knew it the book was dropped to the floor and my snoring emanated around the room.

Unfortunately my nap hadn't lasted long, no more than half an hour. So I hulled myself up to my bedroom, attempted to tidy the already spotless room and sat down on my bed in defeat, waiting for the imminent news.

The piercing ringing continued and I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes as I answered.

"Hello," I strained out, barely louder than a whisper.

"Edward? What's the matter?" a voice on the other end questioned. Their pace drastically increased as they said: "I didn't wake you did I? Oh shit, sorry. I just wanted to make sure I was still coming to yours before we go bowling. Damn it, I didn't mean to wake you up, sorry. Shit. Sorry."

I brought my hand away from my ear and stared down at my phone. It wasn't Chief Swan like I expected. That was definitely Bella.

I continued to stare at it with my mouth hanging open and wide eyes as Bella carried on, sounding nothing more than a squeak from this distance.

I was too shocked to move and listen to what she was saying. I couldn't believe it. She was here. In Forks. Where the sun doesn't shine and there's never anything to do. Where I am - where she is.

She wasn't in Phoenix, engulfed in her mother's arms, while she talked to Charlie over the phone about getting a restraining order against me. In Phoenix where they actually know what the sun looks like and even if there is nothing to do, they can at least sunbathe and not be paler than milk.

Realisation crept along me slowly, starting with a weird yet good feeling in my stomach and ending at a grin reviling a Cheshire's cat plastered across my face.

I looked at the phone again, this time with bright eyes and a buzzing feeling. I brought it back to my ear, suddenly impatient to hear her voice.

"- how much you like flying penguins and –"

"Bella?" I interrupted through an uneasy chuckle. "You're rambling again."

She sighed and I could imagine her cheeks being stained with pink. "I know. It's just... I'm nervous."

I blinked and my eyes went wide in shock. She was nervous too? Could she be agonising over how to act and what to do now that we were...something?

Then realisation dawned over me.

She was nervous about telling me that she was going back to Phoenix. She wanted to tell me herself and was worried about how I'd react.

I stood up and started to pace, my free hand balled into a fist and my eyes clenched shut.

Of course she'd want to tell me herself. She'd think it be the noble thing to do.

I was such an idiot.

I couldn't believe I actually let myself hope for anything different. How could she possibly want to be with someone who's been in love with her for years and yet doesn't have the guts to say it? I bet she thought I was only her best friend to get close to her and because I was obsessed with her.

Which wasn't true, I was her friend because she was so funny, clever, amazing and we had so much in common. We were best friends for the same reasons anybody else was a best friend. The fact that she was stunningly beautiful and I was attracted to her had nothing to do with it.

"Edward?" Bella called through the phone, worried about my silence. "You still there?"

"I'm here." I said in a dejected voice. My free hand slowly loosened and I raked it through my hair, harshly tugging on it so I could focus on the pain instead of the repulsion that would soon enter Bella's mouth.

"Just get it over with," I pleaded, pulling harder and tighter, silently wincing from the pain.

"Get what over with? Edward, are you all right?" she asked in a confused yet concerned voice.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. Just say what you have to say. I know you can't wait to leave and be miles from me and not have anything to do with me." I told her, tugging even harder but trying to refrain from pulling my hair out. The pain would end then.

"Say what I have to say? Leave, miles away from you? What are you on about? Look, I'm coming over. You're obviously delusional or overtired right now. I'll be there soon." Before I could argue she had hung up.

Now it was my turn to be confused. Why was she acting so worried about me? Surely she'd want to get away as soon as possible.

_Maybe she wants to do it face to face, to see you crumbled and destroyed before her very eyes so she could relive the moment she broke you,_ a part of my mind whispered.

I frowned, that didn't sound like her. She wasn't malicious at all. She only kills flies because I cower behind her and beg her to, and she doesn't really have much choice when I push her towards it threatening to destroy her book collection if she didn't do it.

What? Flies are scary.

I spiralled even more into depression and self-pity when I realised I'd never get moments like that with her ever again. Or any moments with her at all.

A flicker of hope ignited in me as I wondered if she was genuinely concerned about me and had no intentions of leaving at all. I quickly extinguished it and scolded myself for being so idiotic.

My internal arguing took longer than I thought, as by the time I released my phone from the vice like grip I didn't realise I had been given it, I could hear her rushing halfway up the stairs.

With a sigh I fell backwards onto my bed and covered my face with my hands.

"Edward, are you okay?"

She had skipped knocking on my bedroom so I jumped slightly when she spoke.

I didn't respond I just laid there trying to listen to her movements.

A minute of silence passed and she huffed in annoyance.

"What were you on about on the phone? Leaving you and everything, what was all that?"

My eyelids shut behind my hands and I inhaled a shuddering breath.

Instead of calm filling me, like I had hoped, a sudden wave of anger washed through me.

How dare she play dumb? Why couldn't she just say that she never wanted to see me again and be done with it, why did she hand to drag it out?

Maybe she did have a dark side to her that I never knew about, a part of her that fed off of peoples anguish and torment.

I heard her stumble and curse slightly under her breath as she made her way to sit on the end of the bed. I smirked, the anger finding her clumsiness humorous in a spiteful way.

"Well?" she probed.

"Well what?" I sneered.

"What was all that nonsense you were spewing over the phone?"

Really, she was _still_ continuing with the dumb act. Anger swelled up within me and I shot up so I was facing her. The sudden motion made her jump and her hand flew over her chest.

"Jesus Edwa-"before she could continue I interrupted her.

"Look, I don't know how you've been hiding this malevolent side to you, since it's pretty severe, but just get it over with?" I shouted at her.

She frowned and shied away from me, looking at the floor before composing herself and glaring at me. "What the hell are you on-"she tried to continue with her dumb act but I wouldn't let her.

"Will you just fucking _stop_ with the 'I don't know what you're on about' charade, it's really boring now. Just get it fucking over with all ready will you?" I spat at her.

She stared at me, shock etching every feature, but said nothing.

"Fine? Do you want me to say it, is that it? To you get a kick out of misery, Bella? I know you think I'm a freak, a fucking psycho. Now you can go run to your mom and hide from the fucking weirdo forever. Happy now?" I yelled at her, shaking from the fury inside me.

"How-" she begun.

"Will you just give up already?!" I yelled, exasperated that she wouldn't give up her act.

"Give me a chance to speak, will you" she demanded, her voice as loud as mine. I was taken back at the ferocity in her tone.

I opened my mouth to retaliate but she glared at me and shouted "No" before I could get anything out.

"It's mine turn to talk, so shut it. I really, _really_ don't understand what you're on about. And before you start yelling, I'm not playing some malicious game with you either. I don't know what has gotten into you. I have no intentions of leaving - especially leaving to go back to Phoenix. And I don't think you're a weirdo. But obviously there's something wrong with you. You have no right talking to me, talk _down_ to me like that. As though you have a clue as to what goes on in inside my head. I can't believe you think I have an evil side to me that I hide away, unleashing it with vengeance whenever I do let it out. Do you actually know me at all? Have you been paying any attention for the past year at all?" She said it all in a level, calm voice, making it all the more worse.

She was right, she always is. How could I have been so stupid? She's perfect and perfect doesn't involve mean.

She stood from the bed sternly and glared at me. "You're not a freak Edward," she reassured me, "but you are a fucking dick."

I was stunned at the unexpected finish to her sentence, and her crude words. I couldn't judge though, what I had said was appalling and I knew she was right. I reacted with a solemn nod, my eyes downcast.

"I didn't want to get away from you, far from it actually. But now being nowhere you seems like a fucking good idea." She yelled, her words stabbed me in the chest.

"Don't...Don't go" I begged through a whisper.

"Why the hell not Edward? You obviously think I'm some bitch, so why the hell shouldn't I leave? What possible excuse could you have to make me stay?"

My head stayed down, my eyes never moving from the ground, but I could imagine her hand on her hip and could feel her glare on me.

"I was scared." I whispered.

"Scared of what?" she asked, her eyes nothing more than slits.

"Scared of losing you."


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey, miss me? I'm terrible, I know. Consider this a belated Christmas present, hope you enjoy it. **

**As always, sorry if there's any mistakes in spelling and grammar.  
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><p><em>"I was scared." I whispered.<em>

_"Scared of what?" she asked, her eyes nothing more than slits._

_"Scared of losing you."_

Her hands slowly lowered and her shoulders slumped.

"I-I thought you were caught up in the moment yesterday or...or were acting out of pity," I confessed. It even sounded pathetic to my ears.

"That what? I was so happy a boy had actually taken interest in me since Jacob?" she spat, glaring. Her posture became tense and defensive again.

"No! You've always had boys attracted to you, you're just oblivious to it all," her eyes widened as disbelief crossed her face and she shook her head. "It's true; ever since you've come to Forks the boys at school have practically been drooling over you," I told her, still amazed at how she failed to notice all the boys' constant chatter and staring.

"Including me," I whispered quiet enough that she didn't hear.

"Though their desires were more selfish than mine," I said bitterly, remembering the vulgar thoughts of Mike Newton I had overheard in English when he had whispered them to his friend Tyler.

She mouthed "ew" while a frowned formed and she scrunched up her nose, making her look adorable.

"I'm so sorry" I started looking down; worried I hadn't done enough to make her stay. "I...You...I..." How could I make her see I was scared, so incredibly scared? This remarkable blossoming woman _liked_ me. I found it incomprehensible, and so I chose not to believe it. That way it wouldn't be a shock, wouldn't hurt as much when I found out it was the truth.

Except it wasn't the truth. It was a mere defence mechanise that hindered instead of helped.

I glanced up at her uselessly trying to think how I could explain my feelings for her and how sorry I was. I hung my head and clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

Nothing was said for a while. Silence filled the room, creeping into every crack and corner almost suffocating me. It could have been minutes or hours as I sat there trying to come with something perfect to tell her explaining the emotions raging war within my body. Guilt, self-loathing, desperation, sadness, longing - hope. Hope that whatever I said she'd forgive me and we could start the day again. But the hope ignited as quickly as it died.

I could tell she was getting impatient. Not by her movements, she stayed perfectly still throughout the silence. I could tell by her huffs and sighs of annoyance, it would be the only sound in the room besides our breathing and as time went on they would become closer in succession.

My nails dug so hard into my palms I thought I'd draw blood as I realised if I didn't say anything soon she'd leave. She couldn't leave. I knew that if she left it wouldn't just be her leaving the room, it would be her leaving my life. My insides contorted in a blinding pain and I would have screamed if I didn't feel as though all the air had left my body. She couldn't leave. She just couldn't.

Still nothing came out.

My heart rate quickened and I was sure my palms would forever have the engraving of my nails as I desperately tried to search for words. Any words.

I could hear my pulse ringing in my ears and I wished they'd bleed so I had physical proof of the pain grabbing at every inch of my body. My fingernails dug even deeper into my palms as a vain attempt to deal with the agony.

_Think goddamn you_, my mind screamed at me. _Just say anything._

"I'm afraid to love.

" No, that's not right, I'm not. I love my parents – both biological and adopted. I love Emmett and Alice, though I'd never admit it to either of them. I lo-" that's where I stammered and took the chance to breathe. It had all rushed out of me, yet the pace of my words were slow and calm hiding the fear and anxiety that flooded my body. I hadn't even realised I'd begun to talk until I felt my body yell at me for more oxygen. Bella was shocked too, her eyes widened and her arms had loosened from around her.

Then I realised what I was about to say – _I loved her too._

I know I'd already admitted it indirectly to her, but actually _saying_ _it to her_ was a completely different thing.

Instead I took deep breath and said "so no, I'm not scared _to _love. I guess...I guess...I-I'm scared to _be_ loved. Or have someone feel something even remotely close to that sort affection for me. I mean, I had hid and watched as my parents were _killed_ and I did _nothing_. If there is a heaven or whatever, I'm pretty sure they're not looking down at me with love. With hate, sure. But love? Not a chance. And then Carlisle and Esme practically had me thrown at them. They were _forced _to love me. And so were Alice and Emmett. I was stranger that one day appeared in their lives and demanded their love."

I never thought of any of this before, it just kind of fell out of my mouth. But as I said it I realised I was right and that my subconscious had been harbouring these thoughts for a long time. I could love, I'm just not so sure with the concept of _being_ loved. When my epiphany finished I slumped forward and hold my head in my hands. It wasn't until I registered the quite sobs that I looked up.

Bella was still in the same spot, her arms dangled beside her, the difference being the tears that streaked her face. Without thinking I rushed over and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed back. I felt her tears soaking my shirt but I couldn't care less because in that instant I realised I was crying too. Though while hers were loud, body wracking sobs, mine were quite and a pain filled my chest and I let go of her so I could try and rub it away without success. Within seconds her arms are back around me and her face was buried in the crook of my neck.

She calmed down enough to be able to loosen her grip on me and her sobs were now quite whimpers. She grabbed my hands and pulled me to my bed where she sat us down and crawled onto my lap, her arms hugging my neck and her legs circled around my waist.

Through the agony tormenting me I realised I'd been in this situation before - where she's wrapped around my body while crying. That's when I gathered enough wits to properly realise what was going on around me. I stopped the few tears running down my face and looked down at the weeping angel on my lap.

"Why are you crying?" I asked her without moving either of us.

She lifted her head, creating a bit of space between us but tightened her hold around my neck. Through all the pain wrecking my body, I managed to smile at that.

"Be-because..." she choked out, her breathing still wavered and unbalanced.

She paused for a second and composed herself. She shuffled around on my lap and I thought she was going to get up so I involuntary tighten my grip on her, not wanting to let go of her warmth and _her_. I thought I saw a small smile appear but it was gone before I could be sure. She stayed where she was – on my lap, with her arms and legs still wrapped around me – and took several deep breaths.

"I thought you were in one of your bitchy moods again or something when you went crazy on me. And then...and then I thought you were having doubts – that you didn't really like me _that way, _that it was just tired you talking and you were angry that I even thought you meant you _liked _me but not so angry you wouldn't want me as friend, or that...I don't know...that you were playing some really fucked up joke on me," she admitted through a whisper, her face retreating back to my neck, hiding from me.

I stared down at her shock. I never even realised that she might be scared about us too. I hugged her closer to me and breathed deeply, about to tell her how sorry I was. But her head lifted and she started talking before I could even open my mouth.

"And then there was that massive gap where you just did and said _nothing_. I was certain that you were trying to let me down easy or something. But then you came out with...with...with _that. _And fucking hell Edward, _you_ _can't do that to me!_" Her finger jabbed my chest as the last part left her in a strangled wail.

"Of course Carlisle and Esme love you, just as your siblings do. You weren't thrown at them, if they didn't want you they wouldn't have taken you in. And Alice and Emmett didn't love you straight away – you were a stranger, but I'm sure it wasn't long before they considered you their brother and loved you as one." She said softly, her hands now softly caressed my shoulders and rubbed over the area of my chest she had attacked.

"And as for your parents – of course they did and _still_ love you! How could you even think that they didn't? You're their son. Their incredibly smart, kind, thoughtful, wonderful son. Who wouldn't love a child as amazing as you? You're nothing _but_ spectacular, and you're the only one that doesn't see that." She looked into my eyes as she said the last part. There was no doubt or lies in her chocolate orbs and I almost believed her.

Almost.

I just couldn't get over my new found revelation though. Everyone who loved me had a reason not to. Even Bella's love, be it friendship or something more, I didn't deserve. Not only because she deserved someone much better than me, but also because I'd never been honest with her. I'd never told her how I really felt and if I continued like that how would our relationship ever work?

I went to move her to the side of me at that thought, so I could get up and put distance between us. She stopped my attempt though, grasping my arms and slowly travelling her hands down to mine where she took her time linking each finger before finally our hands were clasped together. I watched her movements and revelled in how soft her touch was, how her hands were so small compared to mine, how they looked _just right _linked with mine.

She raised my left and her right hand up to my chin where she titled it so I was looking at her. She kept our hands there knowing I would have ducked my head again if she moved them.

"I know what you're doing Edward and stop it. Stop beating yourself up over something that isn't even true. People love you because they _want_ to love you, not because they have to. If you're forced to love someone, then it isn't love." She stated, her tone not allowing any arguments.

I pursed my lips, still having a hard time believing her.

"It's true Edward. I...I know I can't prove it myself...That's not to say I don't love you, because I do, just not the way you want me to." She said quietly, almost as thought she were ashamed, though I didn't understand why. Why would someone be sad to _not _love me?

I clenched me eyes shut. I already knew what she saying was true. But hearing her say it aloud sent a jab to my stomach that seemed to take up new residence there.

"One day I might love you like that. Hell, I'm almost certain I will. I can't believe I never noticed these feelings for you before. Believe me when I tell you I think you're the most incredible and amazing person I've ever met." The words left in almost a whisper.

It sounded like what someone would say when there trying to let a person down easy, but I tried to find faith in her words.

She looked at me and I knew she could see the trouble and conflict creating a tsunami in me, making me feel beyond nauseous. I could tell by the way she squeezed my hands and, instead of giving me a pitiful look, stared at me with hope willing me to believe and I realised that if I did believe her, then the result would be amazing.

The result would be her.

I looked at her then. Stared at her tear-stained face, tears shed over me, her puffy eyes big and filled with hope and faith. Errant strands of her chocolate hair stuck to her face. I freed my right hand from her left and panic swept across her features as she thought I was going to distance us. It left though when my hand went to her face where I softly brushed away the hair from her face and reverently caressed her face. Even when she was upset she was beautiful.

She leaned into my touch and it brought a small smile to face, which in turn made her smile. Slowly, she reached for my hand and brought it down before unwinding herself from me. Panic resembling hers etched onto my face but then she held my hand once more and brought it, along with the rest of us, down to the bed so that we were laying down facing each other.

For a while we just looked at each other. Once more, silence filled the room, but instead of it choking me it felt like a blanket, cocooning us, making it just _us_. It made very thing more intimate and that though alone made me smile.

We laid there just smiling at each other until I couldn't resist the temptation to touch her soft face. Once more, I freed my hand and trace her delicate features, then down to her arm before brushing my hand back up and tracing her features again. When I had finished outlining the content smile that adorned her face, she brought her own hand up and with the softest of touches, skimmed the contours of my face.

It was so relaxing and soothing that my eyelids fluttered closed without me realising and my breathing started to even out with each brush of her fingers.

Just as I was felt the beginning of sleep engulf me, she spoke.

"What do you mean you hid and watched your parents get killed?"


End file.
